Everything is in the Interpretation
by Weaf-L
Summary: A/U: Anna leaves home to live with her father in Bayville and learns sometimes everything is not as it seems. . .
1. Chapter 1

I wedged my last box into the back of my old Ford and closed the tailgate, standing back to look at it. The truck was a few years old and needed a little some work, but it wasn't bad for my first car. It was supposedly a going-away present from my mother, but to me its message was: Go away.

That was okay, though. Being allowed to leave was enough of a gift in itself.

Irene, Mom's girlfriend, came out of the house carrying a grocery bag, "I brought you some contraband, Anna," she grinned, "Animal crackers, licorice, M&Ms, and I even put some fruit in there." I took the bag gratefully, "Chewing will help keep you alert," she smirked from behind her glasses.

"Thanks Irene," I smiled, I would probably miss her more than my mom, and I'd only known her for a couple of years.

"You have any problems this side of Denver, you call _me_," she said sternly, "I know your father is looking out for you, but he's not the only one."

I give her a hug as my mother appeared in the doorway, "Thanks, I will," she released me and I went to Mom, giving a less enthusiastic hug.

"Drive safe," she said giving me a smile, and I was surprised. I hadn't gotten a lot of smiles from her lately. My teenage years were taking a toll on our already strained relationship.

"I will," I promised.

She kissed my cheek, before walking me out to the truck. There were boxes and suitcases crammed into every free space except the driver's seat, though; Irene had at least reminded me to load them so that they didn't block my rearview mirror. I appreciated that.

"Check in when you get to Wichita," Irene said as I buckled up, and I promised I would.

I waited until I was out of view from the house before pulling over and fishing my father's care package out from under my seat. I hadn't wanted my mother to see it, because I knew she'd feel like Logan was trying to out do her, but really, he was just a worrier.

I opened the box and pulled out the things Logan had sent me for the trip: a GPS navigator, a cell phone, an emergency credit card, and receipts for motel reservations in Wichita and Salt Lake City. The gift had brought a lump to my throat when it had arrived in the mail. A lot of money had gone into it, but it was more than that. Logan was concerned about me.

I typed the address for the motel in Wichita into the GPS and got on the road again, heading northwest.

The drive from Jackson, Mississippi to Bayville takes somewhere around forty hours, if you don't stop and don't get lost. A very determined person could make it in just over a day and a half, and a normal person could make it in two. The fact that my dad had made me motel reservations in two different places along the route showed just how well he understood me. He knew that the GPS wouldn't keep me from getting lost, but that it would help me get back on track again when I did and he knew that I was the kind to stay under the speed limit, particularly since I wasn't used to driving in the mountains.

I fished out my new cell phone and scrolled through the numbers he had programmed in for me. The Highway Patrols for all the states I was going through, AAA, and of course, ICE. It stood for "In Case of Emergency," and Logan said paramedics sometimes checked a person's cell phone for an ICE listing so they would know who to call if there was a problem. His own cell number was my ICE contact, and I scrolled down to it and hit the call button.

I knew he wouldn't answer, since he was at work, but when his voice mail picked up, "Hey Logan, I just wanted to let you know that I'm on my way. I'm getting an early start and I've had plenty of coffee, so you don't have to worry. I love you. See you soon." I clicked my phone closed and gripped the steering wheel.

I should have been more upset about this move than I was. People tended to be sad when they moved away from home, but I wasn't. I had a few friends I figured I would keep in touch, but my boyfriend Cody and I had decided the long-distance thing would never work for us; and that was sort of hard, but I wasn't feeling terrible about it.

It was time to move on.

The hardest thing about this move was going to be school. In Jackson, it was relatively easy to hide in the crowd and avoid the spotlight. When more than three thousand people attended your school, nobody noticed the girl who sat in the corner and read a book or skipped assemblies. Bayville would be different, though. According to the registration packet Logan sent me, there were a mere two-hundred fifty-one other students who would be attending my high school.

People were bound to notice me.

I sighed, trying to push that depressing thought out of my head. I wanted this, I reminded myself. I wanted a relationship with my dad that was more than just every other holiday and a month in the summer, and more then that I wanted to put more then two thousand miles between my mother and me.

I stopped a couple of times for food and a stretch, and only got lost once. God bless the people who invented the GPS. With that in the truck, I didn't freak out so much about losing my way. The computer-generated voice guided me calmly back onto the freeway, and I was on my way again.

It was around eight in the evening when I pulled into the motel in Wichita, which meant I made a twelve-hour drive in roughly fourteen hours. That wasn't bad for me.

Logan hadn't called me back yet, and probably wouldn't for a couple of hours. He was the police chief in Bayville, and was something of a workaholic. He had never really had set working hours before, but when I called him and told him I wanted to move in with him, he had standardized his schedule. He gave himself a Tuesday-through-Saturday week, working from nine in the morning to nine in the evening. It seemed like long hours to me, but he seemed happy with the fact that he'd be able to see me off to school in the mornings and spend Sundays with me and I guess I was happy too. Logan and I didn't have much in common, but it was nice that he wanted to try to find something to do together.

I added Irene to my contacts list and sent her a quick voice mail, letting her know I was at the motel in Wichita. I ordered some pizza for dinner and dug out a book to kill some time. Just after nine o'clock, my cell phone rang, showing "ICE" on the caller ID. I smiled and flipped it open.

"Hey Logan."

"Hey Half pint" he replied enthusiastically. "Did you find the motel okay?"

"Yep, safe and sound."

"Is it a good one?" he asked, "The website looked nice."

Laughing a little, "You know, Pool, Weight room; the bare minimums,"

"Weight room," I could hear him smiling, "Very important."

"Oh yeah, I'm bulking up," I joked lamely. I was probably the weakest human being on earth.

I chatted with Logan for a few more minutes, until he seemed satisfied that I was no worse for the wear because of my drive. He wished me luck for the mountainous part of my trip and said goodnight.

The next day went pretty much the same. I got on the road a little before nine, so I actually talked to Logan before he went to work, but when I stopped at the motel that night it was well before he was home. I read some more, talked with him again for a few minutes once he got off work, and then went to bed. I started the process over in the morning, very much looking forward to finishing my drive.

Logan had been adamant that I plan my trip to arrive on Sunday, so that he could be there to welcome me home. He called me several times throughout the day to check on my progress, and I could hear the anticipation building in his voice. It was flattering, but I wondered how much longer this eagerness to spend time with me would last. Logan wasn't exactly used to parenting, and I worried he would feel like I was in the way, just like Mom did, before too long. His long working hours would keep him out of the house a lot, though, so I hoped that would keep him from getting too sick of me too soon.

When I entered Bayville city limits, I called him again, "I'm in the glamorous heart of downtown Bayville," I told Logan cheerfully maneuvering my way through the streets, "Which means it'll be about twelve seconds until I hit the suburbs and another three or so before I pull up in front of your house."

"This place isn't that small," Logan chuckled.

"Please, Logan, my sophomore class in Jackson had as many people as this entire town."

"It's quaint," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, "and charming. I'm telling you, Anna, you're going to like small town life. People are nicer here."

"I don't buy it," I teased him; "I think people move to small towns because there are more places to hide the bodies."

"Is that why you're moving here?" he joked back.

"Of course! You didn't think it was because I wanted to look at your wrinkly old face everyday, did you?"

"Hey," he said sternly. "I am not _wrinkly_, I'm _weathered_. That's what having kids right out of high school gets you, so don't forget that."

"Yes father," I grinned. "Anyway, I'm almost there, but I should probably pay attention to the roads so I don't get lost."

He laughed. "Only you could get lost in a town this small."

"Yeah, but I _really_ could, so I'm going to hang up now," I smiled, "See you in a few _seconds_."

My very helpful GPS guided me through the suburbs of Bayville to the small white house where Logan was pacing the porch. I pulled up in front of the house, and before I could even turn off the truck he was in the street beside me, trying to open my door.

I killed the engine and unlocked the door, climbing out so he could grab me up in a hug. "When did my baby girl get so big?" he growled, squeezing me tightly.

"You know Logan, at a certain age, it stops being a compliment to call a girl big," I teased reproachfully.

He laughed and stepped back, "Well, you're the prettiest big girl I've ever seen in my life," he grinned, "But Ann, who locks their car door while they're _inside_ the car?"

"What, you want me to get car-jacked?" I asked him, "us city girls know to lock the door as soon as you get in the car."

"Your mother corrupted you, dragging you off to that place," he said gruffly, walking back to the box and pulled the tailgate open and grabbed a box, "Come on, let's get your stuff upstairs."

A door opened across the street, and I heard someone yell my name. I glanced back to see one of my dad's neighbors, but I couldn't remember her name. She hurried across the street as fast as her long legs could carry her and ran to give me a hug. "Anna Marie, it's so good to have you here!" she bubbled. "We've all been so excited about you moving to town. Your father hasn't been able to talk about anything else for weeks!"

"I'm . . . really excited to be here," I said, trying not to be aggravated with the older woman calling me by my real name.

"I know your father works late," the woman went on, "but you can always call me if you need anything or come over after school _any time_."

"Um, thanks," I said, surprised.

"See?" Logan said. "What did I tell you? Small town folks are nicer." He nodded to his neighbor. "Thanks for looking out for my girl, Emma."

"Any time, any time," she said, waving his words away. "You know I'd help you with the boxes–"

"No," Logan cut her off, "You've got that back problem, and you shouldn't be carrying things."

She nodded her apologies to him.

"Anna and I can handle this," he said sweetly, "You go get off your feet."

Emma patted my arm and told me again to come over any time, then crossed the street to her house again.

Logan helped me load my boxes inside to the bedroom at the top of the stairs. The one bathroom separated my room from Logan's, but I had a feeling he'd be able to hear every noise I made in my room anyway. I had discovered years ago that the walls in this house were thin, "I bolted a ladder onto the front of the house under your window," he told me as we hauled my things inside, "So if there's a fire or anything, you know, you'll be able to get out without hurting yourself."

I couldn't help but smile. Logan lived his whole life in a war against all of the horrible things that might happen. It was a product of his time in the Bayville Police Department that did it, but he worried about everything.

"And I didn't quite get to it, but I'll move out some shelves in the garage tomorrow so you can park your truck in there."

"Oh no, don't worry about it," I told him. "I parked on the street at Mom's all the time."

"It gets a lot colder here," he grunted.

I shrugged. "I don't mind. I'd rather do that than make you move your stuff." I didn't want to be a bother.

"We'll try it out," Logan conceded, "If it gets to be a pain, I'll move the shelves."

We finished moving my things into my room, and Logan almost helped me unpack. He started to, but the first box he opened happened to have my underwear in the top, and that was the end of that. He escaped to the den to watch TV while I got myself settled in.

It looked exactly the same way it always did when I came to visit. There was a double bed with a faded wooden headboard pushed against one wall, a dresser opposite that, and a desk sat underneath the window that looked out on the front yard.

I unpacked the same way I did everything else- between chapters. I flopped down on the bed and read for a while before unpacking a box. Work was more palatable when I broke it up with a bit of Dracula, which made me more likely to actually do it. It used to drive my mom crazy when she would tell me to clean my room and then walk in later to see me reading, but it was just how I got through my chores, not to mention homework, and just about everything else.

I got about half of my things unpacked, before calling it a night and spent the rest of the evening reading in front of the TV while Logan watched. It maybe wasn't classic father-daughter bonding, but honestly, I had never really known how to relate to Logan when I came to visit. He drank beer and watched sports, something that never happened back home even when she had, had boyfriends my mom was more the wine and Soap Operas type.

Around ten o'clock, I gave up on the TV and stretching I told Logan goodnight.

He smiled up at me, the tan skin around his eyes crinkling; Logan was always tanned, even in the middle of winter, he took full advantage of the great outdoors. "Big day tomorrow, starting the new semester."

I sighed, "Yeah, big day. Listen, maybe we should talk about home schooling? You're a smart guy right, you could teach me."

He laughed, shaking his head, "You'll do fine, Anna. It's a small town, remember? People are welcoming in small towns."

"Maybe adults are welcoming in small towns," I shook my head, "But high school will always be high school, and that never changes."

He chuckled softly, "I have complete faith in you."

I sighed. "Well that makes one of us," I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight Logan."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:I don't own any of the characters

Dont forget to tell me what you think :P

* * *

I stared mournfully at the cluster of little brick buildings, trying to ignore the people who were staring at _me_. "Welcome to Bayville High School," the sign on the side of the building said. "Home of the Marauders!"

I glanced at the heavy gray clouds that blocked out the sun, "That might as well say Welcome to Hell!," I muttered.

Logan dropped an arm around me, "You know, you're mother's full of it," he smiled, "You're not cynical at all."

"I think we dismissed the home schooling idea too quickly," I groaned as my stomach tied itself into knots.

He laughed softly and pulled me toward the school and through the office doors.

There was a woman behind the counter with a bad dye job. She looked up and smiled. "Why Anna Marie, I haven't seen you in years, look how big you've gotten."

I sighed and glared up at Logan, "You people are going to make me anorexic."

The woman looked alarmed, but Logan just laughed, "Ms. Gallio, have you got my _little_ girl's class schedule?"

"Right here," she smiled. She pulled out a folder and started handing me papers; class schedule, school map, and locker information. I thanked her and Logan nodded his goodbye.

"Look at that AP's on everything," he said proudly as we left the office again, "My little girl's pretty _and_ smart."

I rolled my eyes, tucking the papers in my messenger bag. "You're just saying that because you're my dad and you have to."

He shrugged, grinning at me. "Give me a hug, half pint," he grabbed me up in his arms. "I'm so glad you're here," he rumbled in my ear, making me feel a little bit bad for sulking all morning.

"I am too," I smiled, though standing here facing the day in front of me, it felt like a lie.

He released me and grabbed my hands. He kissed both of my palms, and then folded my fingers over them. "Save those for later, in case you need them," he grinned, and I couldn't help but grin. He used to do the same thing when I was a kid and he dropped me off at the airport to go home because I use to be scared of flying.

"Thanks," I watched as he turned and walked away.

I squeezed my hands tight, clinging to my kisses, as I moved down the hall and found my locker. I dug out my papers and located my combination, opening the locker door. I sighed as a handful of gum wrappers and a paper cup fluttered out.

"Well if that's not foreshadowing," I muttered to myself.

Throwing away all the garbage that had been left in my locker and brushing out the bottom. I didn't really have anything to put in it yet, though, so I just closed it and turned around, looking up and down the hall. People were already eyeing me curiously, and I headed off to the bathroom where I could duck into a stall and hide till the bell rang.

Luckily, I hadn't gotten to school very early, so I didn't have to wait long. I found my first class and headed to the teacher's desk to have my enrollment slip signed.

My classes were tiny. The first one had eleven people in it besides me, the second had fifteen, and the third had all of five other students. And in every one of them, I was dragged to the front of the room to introduce myself. By third period, I was pretty sure everybody in the class had already watched me stand up at the front of the room and mumble my name, but I had to do it again anyway.

But the worst part was lunch. The entire student body could fit into the cafeteria at the same time, so there was only one lunch period. To me, that just meant the whole school could possibly all point and laugh at me at the same time.

I maneuvered myself to the end of the lunch line, my eyes scanning the cafeteria. These people had been sorted into groups for years, and I knew it would be impossible for me to approach any of the large circular tables and worm my way into the conversation. I wanted to escape into the courtyard with a book, the way I always did at home, but it was pouring outside.

As I collected some food, my eyes fell on a table in one corner of the room. I thought it was empty at first, and I got my hopes up, but then I spotted someone sitting at the far side, his back against the wall, looking studiously down at his food. He looked vaguely familiar, and I was pretty sure he had been in at least one of my classes, but I had been trying hard not to look at anyone all day. I took in his appearance now, and I was staggered. His long legs were kicked straight out in front of him under the table, one ankle casually crossed over the other. He was tan with messy auburn hair, and well-defined muscles stood out under the sleeves of his tight black shirt.

He was so out of my league it hurt to even look at him.

He didn't look like he was in a very good mood, and I wondered why he wasn't sitting with the rest of the groups in the cafeteria. I looked around for anyone else who might be angling toward his table, but no one seemed to be paying him the slightest bit of attention.

His apparent moodiness and sheer beauty would normally have been enough to keep me from approaching him, but it was that or attempt to sit at one of the clique tables, and I just didn't have the nerve to do it. I dragged my reluctant feet to the table where he sat and touched one of the plastic chairs near him.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked hesitantly.

Slowly, so slowly I wasn't sure he heard me at first, he raised his intense reddish brown eyes from the table to my face. His expression was so unfriendly that I actually took a step back. He glared up at me, not speaking.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm new. I'm just not sure I can walk up to a table full of people and jump right in." I tried to give him a rueful smile, but it didn't quite develop.

He stared at me for a moment longer and then lowered his eyes to his food again.

I wasn't sure if that meant I should go or stay, so I took my chances and pulled out a chair. I sat and suddenly the noise level in the cafeteria had reduced some. I glanced around, and discovered that a lot of people were staring at me. Clearly, I had made some sort of strategic error.

My unfriendly lunch companion picked up his tray and rose in a fluid motion, glaring as he stepped past me. He stalked to the front of the room dumping his tray before storming out of the cafeteria.

I was a little bit relieved, really, that he was gone, but my cheeks burned as I felt all eyes on me. I pulled out my book and tried to distract myself, but it was a long half hour.

The rest of the day wasn't any better. As I introduced myself to the afternoon classes, there were plenty of sniggers and whispers, and I was more self-conscious then, then I had been in my first class. But the final period of the day was the worst. I handed my enrollment slip to the teacher to sign, and he smiled at me, "How convenient, we'll have an even number. Mr. LeBeau, you'll finally have a lab partner. Play nice."

I followed his gaze to a lab table at the back of the room, where the unfriendly auburn haired boy from lunch sat, leaning over a textbook from another class, and working on what looked like a homework assignment. He glanced up at me looking bored, then shrugged dismissively and went back to his work.

I wanted to puke. As if I hadn't had a bad enough day, I had to get stuck with _him_ as my lab partner? I glanced around the room. There were only five other tables in the room, with five other pairs of students, and they all seemed to think it was hilarious that I had been partnered with him.

I trudged to the table and dropped into the chair next to him. He didn't say anything to me.

The kid in front of me, a tall guy with pale skin and soft blond hair turned around and nodded at me, grinning. I nodded in response, but turned to my new lab partner, figuring I'd better set things right.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," I told him softly, "I didn't mean to bother you."

He raised blank eyes to mine and just stared at me for a few moments, but then his expression turned dark and cold. He angled his chair deliberately away from me and hunched over his work.

I couldn't imagine a worse day, and when the bell finally dismissed us, I rushed to my locker and out to my car, collapsing behind the wheel. I tried to fight back the tears until I got out of the parking lot, but I failed _miserably_.

I cried all the way home, but tried hard to pull myself together once I got there. I had already whined to Logan enough, and I didn't want to make him think I didn't want to be here. I really did. Wiping my eyes dry, I did a quick touch-up of my make-up in the mirror, and took a deep breath before heading inside. Hearing the television in the den, I dropped my bag by the stairs that led to my bedroom and followed the sound through the kitchen to the den at the back of the house.

"Hey Anna," Logan said, glancing back at me from the couch. "How was school?"

I couldn't keep up the pretense. I managed to keep myself from crying at least, but I moved around the couch and dropped down beside him, "Sucked."

He draped his arm around me. "Were people nice?" he asked.

"No," I said sulkily, "but I didn't really expect them to be," leaning into his shoulder.

He sighed, "Well. You just tell me the ones who weren't, and they'll all get speeding tickets next week."

His joke was just what I needed at that moment, and I giggled, "Thanks, Dad."

I woke the next morning feeling sick. I knew I didn't have the sudden onset of the stomach flu, but wished I had been. My nerves had gotten me up before my alarm, and I inadvertently rushed through my morning because of my anxiety over going to school again. I didn't want to sit around sulking in front of Logan, so I made an excuse about catching up with the rest of my classes and ducked out the door after finishing my coffee.

Of course, that meant I would get to school ridiculously early but I figured I would just find a corner and read somewhere, and hoping people left me alone.

I parked the truck in the lot, surprised by how many people were already there. I didn't understand what was wrong with small-town people. Why would they want to be at school so early? Was there really nothing better they could do with their time? I ignored the fact that I was a pot calling the kettle black, and got out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Crossing the parking lot, I prayed nobody would notice me, when I suddenly heard a booming voice yelling across the yard.

"New Girl!"

I looked up, caught off guard. Off to one side of the school was a group of rectangular picnic tables. Several people were clustered around one, and on the tabletop sat possibly the most massive high school student I had ever seen. His chest and shoulders were so thickly muscled that the words "anabolic steroids" came to mind. His thighs had to be as big around as my waist. He had dark hair that was cropped short around his head and his face was marked with a deep pair of dimples that somehow made him, even with his massive size, look boyish.

I didn't know whether to be threatened or charmed, but I was definitely uncomfortable. He was a giant, he was loud, and he was pointing directly at me. I watched as, he leapt up from the table and started jogging toward me, a wide grin on his face.

"Hey!" he yelled again. "I heard you sat with my _brother _yesterday!"

Oh god.

I stopped dead in my tracks, and my stomach clenched as I watched him get closer. I didn't know if he was pleased, or upset, or just being malicious, but I was thoroughly panicked.

"New Girl, you are one hell of a Rogue!" he yelled as he reached me, and grabbed me up in a jarring hug, lifting me off my feet, "Come on, we're all going for coffee!"

I didn't know how to respond, not that he let me. He dragged me toward a giant jeep in the parking lot, keeping an arm around my waist.

The people he had been sitting with seemed to take that as a cue, and they all got up and moved to the jeep as well.

"The new girl gets shotgun!" the big guy yelled and scooped me up depositing me in the front seat. The huge vehicle didn't have a top, or even doors, and I tugged my seatbelt on as the others climbed into the back seat and bed of the jeep.

The big guy bound around the jeep to the other side and climbed in. He pulled it out of the parking lot, the giant grin never leaving his face.

"Rogue, you're hot!" he exclaimed as the jeep sped down the road, "So what's your name?"

"Anna Howlett," I told him.

"Piotr Rasputin, call me Pete," he said, his dimples deepening in his cheeks. "And don't let my brother get to you, Remy's an ass!"

I laughed, relieved to hear him say it. There was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned. The guy behind me held out his hand. "I'm Scott," he said. He had brown hair and was attractive; I tried not to cringe at the fact that he had obviously spent more time on his hair that morning than I had. I shook his hand, and he gestured to the girls on the seat next to him. "That's Jubilee and Jean," he said, and both the girls smiled at me as I gave them a little wave.

Scott pointed to the people in the bed of the jeep. "Back there is Warren and Kitty," he said, pointing. Warren turned out to be the blond guy who had given me a nod the day before. He caught my eye now and winked at me.

"What did Remy say to you yesterday?" Jubilee asked eagerly, sliding forward.

"Nothing," I said, shrugging.

She looked at me uncertainly.

"Seriously," I said, a little bit bitterly, "Not at lunch, and not in Biology, where I'm now his lab partner."

"Oh my god, that _sucks_," she said, though her face said she thought it was hilarious.

"At least you'll get an A!" Piotr enthused, pulling into the parking lot of a little coffee shop.

No Starbucks . . . We lived in a really small town.

We all climbed out of the jeep and filed into the shop and put in our orders, and Pete very chivalrously picked up the tab for mine.

"How come you never buy me coffee?" Jean asked Pete as we waited to have our orders filled. She pouted and batted her eyes at him.

He grinned. "If you sit with that asshole at lunch today, I'll buy you coffee tomorrow morning," he said, tapping her nose.

She snorted, "Never mind, I'll buy my _own_ coffee."

He laughed out loud, "That's what I thought! Not one of you has guts like the Rogue!" He grabbed me around the shoulders in a one-armed hug.

"Hey, I saw you in Bio yesterday," Warren said, pushing his way to my side. "Tough break, having to partner with LeBeau,"

"At least with Remy as your partner you can sleep through class and still pass," Jubilee laughed.

"Yeah, but having to sit next that bastard every day?" Scott added, shaking his head, "I'd rather fail."

I was starting to get uncomfortable with the down-with-Remy atmosphere. It was validating to be told it was him and not me, but everyone really seemed to hate him. So it surprised me when Piotr punched Scott on the shoulder, "Watch what you say about my brother."

"Um, I'm sorry," I spoke up as Scott cringed and rubbed his arm. "Did you not just call him an asshole?"

"I'm family, I get to," Piotr grinned, "But don't listen to these guys, Remy's easy enough to get along with. Just don't try to be his friend."

I nodded, though I didn't really know how that was supposed to work.

"Hey, you're coming with us to a movie in Tillamook next Friday," Warren said to me, "So don't make other plans."

"Oh yeah, Pete, are you coming?" Jean asked him, brushing a lock of red hair off of her shoulder.

"Nope, I have a _real_ date that night," he said. "I won't be stuck hanging out with you losers."

A chorus of disappointed groans met his announcement.

"But Smuggler Cove," Piotr said, pointing at them, "Next sunny weekend."

"Isn't it a little cold for the beach?" I asked Jubilee, who was standing near me.

She nodded. "Yeah, but that's when it's not crowded. We go out and light a fire and roast hot dogs and stuff. You should come."

It did sound fun. "Yeah, totally."

Our orders were finally all ready, and we piled back into the jeep. Piotr drove us back to school and I sat with them at the picnic table where they had all been sitting earlier.

I started to get it. If that's how mornings at Bayville High School went, I could understand wanting to get there early.

I almost thought the whole group was walking me to my locker when the bell rang, until I realized that most of us had lockers fairly close together. There was only one hallway with lockers in it, and they were apparently arranged by grade. It seemed that some of the people I had gone for coffee with were juniors too. I glanced around to see if I could get an idea of where the class divisions were, and my eyes fell on Remy LeBeau.

He was propped against a locker, a few yards down from mine his arms crossed over his chest, staring at me. For all his indifference yesterday, this morning his attention was riveted on me. His expression wasn't friendly, but it didn't carry the same coldness I had seen before. I hoped against hope that he had decided to bury whatever imaginary hatchet was between us.

Suddenly he smirked, and I realized I'd been staring at him. I quickly collected my things and closed my locker, hurrying away.

Remy, it turned out, was in a lot of my classes. As a matter of fact, his assigned seat was directly behind mine in first. I was horribly uncomfortable sitting in front of him, and I spent the whole class period fighting the urge to turn around and see if he was glaring at the back of my head. I hurried out of the classroom at the bell and headed to my next class, only to find that he was in my second period class too. He was seated across the room from me this time though, which helped, but when I found myself sitting right next to him in my third period class, I started to wonder if the Fates weren't making me part of some big cosmic joke. He didn't acknowledge me once all morning. He didn't even look at me, to my knowledge, and I was relieved. I had no idea how to behave around him but I remembered Piotr's words _'Just don't try to be his friend'_.

I found myself facing lunch with apprehension. I was hoping that Piotr and the people I had gone for coffee with all sat together at lunch. If they did, I was pretty sure I would be welcomed to join them. If they didn't, though, I would be faced with the same humiliation as I had been in the day before. When the bell rang after third period, I followed the crowd to the lockers.

When I opened my locker open, ready to put my things away, there was a manila envelope resting in the bottom. Curious, I opened it, and pulled out a paper with a sketch of a rose on it. My eyes were drawn to the bottom where there were handwritten words in a tidy scrawl.

"_I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."-Robert McCloskey _

It wasn't hard to guess who the quote was referencing; there was only one person who I didn't understand. I dug in my bag for a magnet and stuck the paper up in the back of my locker. Then I put my books away and went to join the line for lunch.

I didn't even realize that I was staring at the back of Remy's head from the end of the lunch line until Piotr's enormous form stepped into my line of sight, and his arm dropped over his brother's shoulders. Remy didn't acknowledge him, and Pete didn't seem to expect him to. The two of them just stood quietly together, moving slowly forward in the line. Pete finally dropped his arm to collect his tray, and the two of them separated without a word. Remy went to his place at the corner table and Pete wandered off to a table full of people I hadn't met.

My stomach started to feel queasy. It looked like the people I had gone out with that morning weren't going to be sitting together after all.

My anxiety was short-lived, however. As I collected my food, I heard a girl's voice call out to me, and I glanced up to see Jubilee and Scott waving me over to their table. All of the people who had gone to coffee that morning were there, with the exception of Pete, along with a few extras. I smiled with relief and went to join them, wishing good karma on them for saving me from another lunchtime humiliation.

I sat down between Jubilee and another girl, who was tall like me but so thin she looked like she might break if I bumped into her. She smiled sarcastically and introduced herself as Wanda, welcoming me to Bayville.

Everyone was very friendly at lunch. Piotr's approval of me seemed to void out any stupidity I may have shown the day before, and everyone treated me like I was the latest trend. The girls eagerly shared all the gossip they had stored away, and the guys teased me the way they teased all of the other girls. It was such a complete turnaround that I was almost afraid it was a prank.

I kept one eye on the giant during the lunch period, and he was fascinating to watch. He wandered from one table to another the whole period, lingering for a few minutes before moving on. Everyone seemed thrilled to get a visit from him. He was a clear favorite among the students at the school, and he seemed to love everyone back just as much. He was loud and vibrant and so full of life that he was almost too much to believe. He was like the sun in a room full of planets, only instead of the room revolving around him; he slowly made a circuit around the room, sharing warmth with everyone as he passed.

The only person he didn't stop to talk to was Remy. After standing silently in the lunch line with his brother, Pete didn't give him another look.

He wandered by our table after a while, and touched each person on the head. "Duck . . . duck . . . duck . . . duck . . . Rogue!" he declared as he touched my head.

I leaned my head back and looked up at Pete, who was looking very pleased with his joke. "Do I jump up and chase you around the table now?"

"Ha! You wish you could get your hands on this shit, baby."

"You can chase me around the table any time, Anna," Scott offered, grinning at me.

"How about _you_ two chase each other around the table and I'll just eat my lunch," I suggested.

Pete shrugged at Scott. "You do have a pretty nice ass."

There were a few snickers in response, and Scott threw a fry at Pete. "No boys allowed in my clubhouse," everyone groaned.

"Alright," Pete said loudly. "Alright, settle down. I know you guys are all hot for my body, but there's only one person for Piotr Rasputin."

Everybody waited expectantly.

"And her name," he said, "sorry guys, yes it's a _her_. Her name is as beautiful as her face. As beautiful as her _soul_." He said dramatically, "The only one for Piotr Rasputin is . . . The Rogue."

Everyone groaned, and suddenly I was the target of the flying food. I ducked away, throwing my hands up to protect me.

"You'll never find another woman like me, Pete," Jean declared.

Pete darted to where she was sitting and scooped her up in his arms, planting a kiss on her lips. "You're too much woman for me, Jean. I can't keep up with you." He deposited her back in her chair, and then turned to the rest of the table. "Ladies, gentlemen." He gave a little bow. "Adieu." He turned at strode to the next table.

I laughed, shaking my head, "Is he always like that?" I asked Wanda.

"Every day," she said, rolling her eyes, "There's nobody like Pete."

I looked over at Remy, who was leaning over a homework assignment, ignoring everything around him, "Talk about an oddly matched family."

Just then a guy stood up from the table next to Remy's and, smirking, sat down at Remy's table. "You looked like you might need some company," he said mockingly.

Remy's expression was lethal, "Leave," he said coldly.

"Hey now," the guy said, clearly putting on a show for his friends. "I'm just trying to be nice."

Remy jerked to his feet. He grabbed the guy's lunch tray and threw it at him, upending spaghetti and pudding into his lap before stalking out the door into the rain.

Pete roared with laughter, collapsing into a nearby chair.

"Hey shut up you douche," the guy yelled at him, but his teasing with Pete was more good-natured than it had been with Remy.

"Hell no!" Pete crowed. "The punishment fits the crime, Haller. You wanna pester my brother; you can wear your food the rest of the day." He continued to laugh, and more people in the cafeteria joined in.

I shook my head, thanking whatever gods there might be that I hadn't suffered that particular fate the day before.

I relaxed a little during my next two classes, because Remy; thankfully, wasn't in them.

But the final period of the day inevitably arrived, and I moved reluctantly to the Biology lab. Remy was already in his seat when I got there, his attention once again on a homework assignment for another class, and he did nothing to show he was aware I existed.

Again I remembered what Pete said about not trying to be his friend, and I wondered if I was supposed to be rude to him, or just ignore him the way he was ignoring me. I finally decided to follow Remy's lead and ignore him. I pulled out a book and read until class started.

Things were fine until the teacher passed around an assignment that we were supposed to do together. It was a page full of ten questions we had to answer based on reading from the textbook.

I looked at Remy, steeling my nerves to speak. "I'll do odds, you do evens?" I suggested.

He flicked me an impassive glance and nodded in acknowledgment.

I tried to keep my relieved sigh to myself, impassive nods I could handle.

We traded the paper back and forth, scribbling answers in turn, working silently. At one point, Remy slid the paper to me and pointed out a word that I had written on the previous answer. "Bases," he said simply. "Not acids."

"Thanks," I corrected my mistake. I hadn't even realized he was reading my answers. I certainly wasn't reading his.

The other lab partners in the class were chattier than the two of us, but the tension between us seemed to drain away a little as we found a workable groove, and I was relieved. At the end of class, I stood up and turned to him. "Thanks for your help today."

He slammed his backpack on the table and stood, leaning down so his face was close to mine. "I don't need you to thank me," he said through his teeth, his voice furious. He jerked his bag onto his shoulder and stalked away, leaving me stunned.

I discovered over the next several days that if I limited my conversation with Remy to only what was absolutely necessary to complete our assignments, his hostility remained veiled and under control. But if I ever attempted small talk or a joke, it immediately surfaced, as it had that day after class. I learned quickly not to do that.

The following days were much the same, minus the trip to the coffee shop. I discovered that I had been a little bit wrong in my assumptions about Piotr. I had thought he was everybody's best friend, but that didn't seem to be quite true. Everybody _wanted_ him to be their best friend, but there was simply too little of him to go around. A few elusive minutes conversation with everyone, everyday, had the entire student body eating out of his hand, but I kept looking for the people that he really connected with, and I couldn't find them. Pete was beloved by everyone, but intimate with no one.

Except, I realized after a few days, Remy. They arrived to school more often than not in separate cars, Pete in his jeep and Remy on his black motorcycle. They didn't spend any time together and rarely had a conversation, but at lunch, Pete always took just one brief moment for Remy. Sometimes they waited in line together; sometimes he simply walked by him and clapped a hand on his shoulder or back. In those brief moments, I saw more honest emotion than in everything else Pete did. It wasn't that I doubted his sincerity with his friends, not at all– Piotr seemed charmingly genuine and truly loving–but it all paled in comparison to his bond with his brother. The person everyone adored was completely, and utterly devoted to the person they all despised.

It was exactly the kind of poetry that struck a chord with me, and I loved Pete all the more for it.

Things at school were good, if you didn't count the daily misery that came with walking on eggshells around Remy in Biology. But things at home were a little bit weird. Living with Logan was almost like living alone, except with a curfew. I realized the first night that Logan was away that I would have to take care of dinner if I wanted to eat at any kind of reasonable hour, but he didn't have any actual groceries. There were some individual frozen meals in the freezer, and I wondered if that was what he had been living on for the last sixteen years. That night I asked him to let me do the cooking and grocery shopping, and he just shrugged. "Whatever you want, Ann"

Changing things around at home didn't seem to bother him in the least, but anything I asked for that involved me leaving the house got his hackles up. When I mentioned the movie night that Friday night, he became immediately suspicious.

"Why can't you just rent a movie at the grocery store and watch it here?" he asked.

"Because the movie we want to see isn't in stores yet," I answered.

"I don't like you going all the way to Tillamook," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "Logan, it's only a thirty minute drive."

"A person can bleed to death in twenty," he said sternly.

"Okay," I said carefully, "Can I go if I promise not to slash my wrists south of Garibaldi?"

That was a mistake. He started ranting about how I wasn't taking my safety seriously and throwing out statistics on teen driving and car accidents. I was about to give up when he asked who had invited me.

"Warren Worthington," I told him.

He grunted. "Worthington's boy; he's a good kid. Who else are you going with?"

I rattled off a list of names and he grunted again. "I guess that should be okay. But I don't want you turning off your cell phone during the movie. I want to be able to get a hold of you at all times."

I smiled and hugged him excitedly, "Thanks Logan."


End file.
